Photography, the Unkind Mirror

Hello Sunday, hello from Edith!
I’m riffing on Mary Jo’s recent blog today.
In her last blog she wrote about having Cinderella moments and that started me thinking. We’ve all, I think, had our share of them. At least, I have, in my mind. But seldom in my photographs. A least, not until years have gone by and I’ve lost my mental image of the moment, so I’ve nothing to be disappointed about when I see the photographs. In fact, after years have passed, I’ll often find the rejected photos in the back of the album and think they’re not so bad, after all.
But I’ve almost never been happy about photographs of me after they are first taken.
Because:
1) I always look too fat, no matter what I looked like at the time.
2) I NEVER look the way I thought I did.

The exception is that I liked my wedding pictures, because I hardly recognized me.

But now publishers want an author’s photo inside the back cover of her book. No escape, unless she wants people to think she is so hideous they will drop the book in shock if they see her. The spy novel author Adam Hall used to pose in silhouette, sort of lurking iin the shadows, with his big dog. I thought that was way cool. Romance authors can’t do that.

Some Romance authors use pictures that are ten years old. I think that’s craven. Three years is my limit. Some go to cosmetic specialists and Vogue-ish photographers, and come out looking lovely, and absolutely nothing like themselves.

I have taken to having my pictures took with my dog. But not in shadow. She always looks good. (How come dogs always look fine in their photographs, and we don’t?) But part from loving her to pieces, I have a valid reason for it. See. actors know that a dog or a child will always upstage them, and I say Hoorah! for that. The eye goes first to the infant or the pet, and the mind goes “awww…” before it goes on to look at the human in the picture.
I know no other way of diverting attention from my flaws except for maybe wearing a helicopter beanie, or a deely bopper: a headband sprouting two wobbling stalks with jolly tinsel balls on their ends.

How about you? How often have you caught Cinderella moments on film? Are you usually satisfied with photos taken of you? And does an author’s photograph influence you in any way?
‘fess up, please. What image do you like to see in the back of your books, author-wise?

52 thoughts on “Photography, the Unkind Mirror”

  1. FWIW, I pay almost no attention to author photos. If, as is often the case, there’s advertising material or an excerpt from an upcoming book between the end of the story and the inside back cover, I probably won’t even see it, because I usually just close the book once the story is done.
    When I do look at author photos, I don’t pay much attention unless they’re somehow radically unlike the vague mental image I’d formed of the author based on his or her name and writing style–e.g. if I’d been picturing someone around 55 but the picture was of a 25-year-old.
    All that said, if/when I’m published myself, I’m not looking forward to the author photo, because I’m just not photogenic at all. Hmm…maybe a distant shot of me strolling down one of our rocky northwestern beaches?

    Reply
  2. FWIW, I pay almost no attention to author photos. If, as is often the case, there’s advertising material or an excerpt from an upcoming book between the end of the story and the inside back cover, I probably won’t even see it, because I usually just close the book once the story is done.
    When I do look at author photos, I don’t pay much attention unless they’re somehow radically unlike the vague mental image I’d formed of the author based on his or her name and writing style–e.g. if I’d been picturing someone around 55 but the picture was of a 25-year-old.
    All that said, if/when I’m published myself, I’m not looking forward to the author photo, because I’m just not photogenic at all. Hmm…maybe a distant shot of me strolling down one of our rocky northwestern beaches?

    Reply
  3. FWIW, I pay almost no attention to author photos. If, as is often the case, there’s advertising material or an excerpt from an upcoming book between the end of the story and the inside back cover, I probably won’t even see it, because I usually just close the book once the story is done.
    When I do look at author photos, I don’t pay much attention unless they’re somehow radically unlike the vague mental image I’d formed of the author based on his or her name and writing style–e.g. if I’d been picturing someone around 55 but the picture was of a 25-year-old.
    All that said, if/when I’m published myself, I’m not looking forward to the author photo, because I’m just not photogenic at all. Hmm…maybe a distant shot of me strolling down one of our rocky northwestern beaches?

    Reply
  4. FWIW, I pay almost no attention to author photos. If, as is often the case, there’s advertising material or an excerpt from an upcoming book between the end of the story and the inside back cover, I probably won’t even see it, because I usually just close the book once the story is done.
    When I do look at author photos, I don’t pay much attention unless they’re somehow radically unlike the vague mental image I’d formed of the author based on his or her name and writing style–e.g. if I’d been picturing someone around 55 but the picture was of a 25-year-old.
    All that said, if/when I’m published myself, I’m not looking forward to the author photo, because I’m just not photogenic at all. Hmm…maybe a distant shot of me strolling down one of our rocky northwestern beaches?

    Reply
  5. Recently on a literary agent’s blog I read about the same concern. There were complaints that some authors’ photographs are so doctored they’d never be recognized in person!
    I think sitting for a formal portrait is always discomfiting. No matter how you’re lit or how high up that turtleneck sweater goes, there is the matter of the double chin. Or the hair that won’t behave. Or the eyes that squint when you try to smile naturally. If you can even smile naturally without looking like some demented serial killer.
    Some years back I needed a studio portrait for my business flyers. When I got the photos back I had no idea who that fat, smarmy woman with the doorknocker earrings and piggy eyes was. It was universally decided in my office that I should go for a do-over, and I did, with slightly better results. But that was the last time I was “shot.” And if I ever have to pose again, no doubt I’ll want to shoot myself.
    Edith, you look adorable with your dog. I love author photographs that seem spontaneous and natural. I don’t mind a bit if they’re air-brushed or shot in soft-focus. We could all do with a bit of that!

    Reply
  6. Recently on a literary agent’s blog I read about the same concern. There were complaints that some authors’ photographs are so doctored they’d never be recognized in person!
    I think sitting for a formal portrait is always discomfiting. No matter how you’re lit or how high up that turtleneck sweater goes, there is the matter of the double chin. Or the hair that won’t behave. Or the eyes that squint when you try to smile naturally. If you can even smile naturally without looking like some demented serial killer.
    Some years back I needed a studio portrait for my business flyers. When I got the photos back I had no idea who that fat, smarmy woman with the doorknocker earrings and piggy eyes was. It was universally decided in my office that I should go for a do-over, and I did, with slightly better results. But that was the last time I was “shot.” And if I ever have to pose again, no doubt I’ll want to shoot myself.
    Edith, you look adorable with your dog. I love author photographs that seem spontaneous and natural. I don’t mind a bit if they’re air-brushed or shot in soft-focus. We could all do with a bit of that!

    Reply
  7. Recently on a literary agent’s blog I read about the same concern. There were complaints that some authors’ photographs are so doctored they’d never be recognized in person!
    I think sitting for a formal portrait is always discomfiting. No matter how you’re lit or how high up that turtleneck sweater goes, there is the matter of the double chin. Or the hair that won’t behave. Or the eyes that squint when you try to smile naturally. If you can even smile naturally without looking like some demented serial killer.
    Some years back I needed a studio portrait for my business flyers. When I got the photos back I had no idea who that fat, smarmy woman with the doorknocker earrings and piggy eyes was. It was universally decided in my office that I should go for a do-over, and I did, with slightly better results. But that was the last time I was “shot.” And if I ever have to pose again, no doubt I’ll want to shoot myself.
    Edith, you look adorable with your dog. I love author photographs that seem spontaneous and natural. I don’t mind a bit if they’re air-brushed or shot in soft-focus. We could all do with a bit of that!

    Reply
  8. Recently on a literary agent’s blog I read about the same concern. There were complaints that some authors’ photographs are so doctored they’d never be recognized in person!
    I think sitting for a formal portrait is always discomfiting. No matter how you’re lit or how high up that turtleneck sweater goes, there is the matter of the double chin. Or the hair that won’t behave. Or the eyes that squint when you try to smile naturally. If you can even smile naturally without looking like some demented serial killer.
    Some years back I needed a studio portrait for my business flyers. When I got the photos back I had no idea who that fat, smarmy woman with the doorknocker earrings and piggy eyes was. It was universally decided in my office that I should go for a do-over, and I did, with slightly better results. But that was the last time I was “shot.” And if I ever have to pose again, no doubt I’ll want to shoot myself.
    Edith, you look adorable with your dog. I love author photographs that seem spontaneous and natural. I don’t mind a bit if they’re air-brushed or shot in soft-focus. We could all do with a bit of that!

    Reply
  9. The best picture I have ever taken of myself–the one where I said afterwards “Hey, that’s me, and I look good!”–was where I was really drunk with friends. I think at least part of my problem is that when I pose for pictures, I get really self-conscious and it shows.

    Reply
  10. The best picture I have ever taken of myself–the one where I said afterwards “Hey, that’s me, and I look good!”–was where I was really drunk with friends. I think at least part of my problem is that when I pose for pictures, I get really self-conscious and it shows.

    Reply
  11. The best picture I have ever taken of myself–the one where I said afterwards “Hey, that’s me, and I look good!”–was where I was really drunk with friends. I think at least part of my problem is that when I pose for pictures, I get really self-conscious and it shows.

    Reply
  12. The best picture I have ever taken of myself–the one where I said afterwards “Hey, that’s me, and I look good!”–was where I was really drunk with friends. I think at least part of my problem is that when I pose for pictures, I get really self-conscious and it shows.

    Reply
  13. Edith, I really hope no one buys a book based on the author photo. The only time I’ve heard from readers about my picture have been in those nice fan letters we all get from prisons.
    Besides, I’ve never been able to figure out what writers are SUPPOSED to look like. I’ve always thought those soft-focus-and-enhanced “glamah shots” look very weird, especially for writers who are not by nature very glamorous. And dressing up in historical fancy-dress isn’t any more my style than posing in moody author-ish Morticia-Goth black.
    My first author photo had Big Hair (so much hair spray that I was lucky I didn’t self-combust), but I liked it, and clung to it as long (probably too long) as I could so I wouldn’t have to suffer through the experience again.
    But as you note, these things have an expirataion date, and when I finally did the deed again last year, I was determined not to go the poufy-hair-fake-fashion-shot look. I chose a photographer who’d show me as I was, flat hair and all, and I waited for the last possible moment, so I’d have to use the one I got.
    All I can say is that I should have brought a dog. Your picture always makes me smile, while mine, well, does not.

    Reply
  14. Edith, I really hope no one buys a book based on the author photo. The only time I’ve heard from readers about my picture have been in those nice fan letters we all get from prisons.
    Besides, I’ve never been able to figure out what writers are SUPPOSED to look like. I’ve always thought those soft-focus-and-enhanced “glamah shots” look very weird, especially for writers who are not by nature very glamorous. And dressing up in historical fancy-dress isn’t any more my style than posing in moody author-ish Morticia-Goth black.
    My first author photo had Big Hair (so much hair spray that I was lucky I didn’t self-combust), but I liked it, and clung to it as long (probably too long) as I could so I wouldn’t have to suffer through the experience again.
    But as you note, these things have an expirataion date, and when I finally did the deed again last year, I was determined not to go the poufy-hair-fake-fashion-shot look. I chose a photographer who’d show me as I was, flat hair and all, and I waited for the last possible moment, so I’d have to use the one I got.
    All I can say is that I should have brought a dog. Your picture always makes me smile, while mine, well, does not.

    Reply
  15. Edith, I really hope no one buys a book based on the author photo. The only time I’ve heard from readers about my picture have been in those nice fan letters we all get from prisons.
    Besides, I’ve never been able to figure out what writers are SUPPOSED to look like. I’ve always thought those soft-focus-and-enhanced “glamah shots” look very weird, especially for writers who are not by nature very glamorous. And dressing up in historical fancy-dress isn’t any more my style than posing in moody author-ish Morticia-Goth black.
    My first author photo had Big Hair (so much hair spray that I was lucky I didn’t self-combust), but I liked it, and clung to it as long (probably too long) as I could so I wouldn’t have to suffer through the experience again.
    But as you note, these things have an expirataion date, and when I finally did the deed again last year, I was determined not to go the poufy-hair-fake-fashion-shot look. I chose a photographer who’d show me as I was, flat hair and all, and I waited for the last possible moment, so I’d have to use the one I got.
    All I can say is that I should have brought a dog. Your picture always makes me smile, while mine, well, does not.

    Reply
  16. Edith, I really hope no one buys a book based on the author photo. The only time I’ve heard from readers about my picture have been in those nice fan letters we all get from prisons.
    Besides, I’ve never been able to figure out what writers are SUPPOSED to look like. I’ve always thought those soft-focus-and-enhanced “glamah shots” look very weird, especially for writers who are not by nature very glamorous. And dressing up in historical fancy-dress isn’t any more my style than posing in moody author-ish Morticia-Goth black.
    My first author photo had Big Hair (so much hair spray that I was lucky I didn’t self-combust), but I liked it, and clung to it as long (probably too long) as I could so I wouldn’t have to suffer through the experience again.
    But as you note, these things have an expirataion date, and when I finally did the deed again last year, I was determined not to go the poufy-hair-fake-fashion-shot look. I chose a photographer who’d show me as I was, flat hair and all, and I waited for the last possible moment, so I’d have to use the one I got.
    All I can say is that I should have brought a dog. Your picture always makes me smile, while mine, well, does not.

    Reply
  17. I’m not overly concerned about an author’s picture, but I prefer something a little more natural than something so posed, or someone who is too *fancy* [for want of a better word] to be real.
    Personally I don’t know many people that really like their own picture anyway, even if said person is gorgeous…there’s nearly always something *wrong* by their standards.
    But it’s nice to have a mental picture of what the author looks like and, no, an author’s appearance doesn’t affect my opinion of the book; that’s all related to the story and storytelling. ^.^
    Some of my favourite author pics that I have seen are taken by someone close to the author, either spouse or other family member; the more casual pictures often end up being the best, IMO. Those pictures are cool ’cause it makes the author more a real person than just a figure.
    Oh well, I’m pretty sure that none of what I’ve said makes sense, or at least much, but then it’s Sunday, gray and snowing and I feel like I should be hibernating!
    BTW, I like the pictures of you all along the side of the blog!
    Kathy

    Reply
  18. I’m not overly concerned about an author’s picture, but I prefer something a little more natural than something so posed, or someone who is too *fancy* [for want of a better word] to be real.
    Personally I don’t know many people that really like their own picture anyway, even if said person is gorgeous…there’s nearly always something *wrong* by their standards.
    But it’s nice to have a mental picture of what the author looks like and, no, an author’s appearance doesn’t affect my opinion of the book; that’s all related to the story and storytelling. ^.^
    Some of my favourite author pics that I have seen are taken by someone close to the author, either spouse or other family member; the more casual pictures often end up being the best, IMO. Those pictures are cool ’cause it makes the author more a real person than just a figure.
    Oh well, I’m pretty sure that none of what I’ve said makes sense, or at least much, but then it’s Sunday, gray and snowing and I feel like I should be hibernating!
    BTW, I like the pictures of you all along the side of the blog!
    Kathy

    Reply
  19. I’m not overly concerned about an author’s picture, but I prefer something a little more natural than something so posed, or someone who is too *fancy* [for want of a better word] to be real.
    Personally I don’t know many people that really like their own picture anyway, even if said person is gorgeous…there’s nearly always something *wrong* by their standards.
    But it’s nice to have a mental picture of what the author looks like and, no, an author’s appearance doesn’t affect my opinion of the book; that’s all related to the story and storytelling. ^.^
    Some of my favourite author pics that I have seen are taken by someone close to the author, either spouse or other family member; the more casual pictures often end up being the best, IMO. Those pictures are cool ’cause it makes the author more a real person than just a figure.
    Oh well, I’m pretty sure that none of what I’ve said makes sense, or at least much, but then it’s Sunday, gray and snowing and I feel like I should be hibernating!
    BTW, I like the pictures of you all along the side of the blog!
    Kathy

    Reply
  20. I’m not overly concerned about an author’s picture, but I prefer something a little more natural than something so posed, or someone who is too *fancy* [for want of a better word] to be real.
    Personally I don’t know many people that really like their own picture anyway, even if said person is gorgeous…there’s nearly always something *wrong* by their standards.
    But it’s nice to have a mental picture of what the author looks like and, no, an author’s appearance doesn’t affect my opinion of the book; that’s all related to the story and storytelling. ^.^
    Some of my favourite author pics that I have seen are taken by someone close to the author, either spouse or other family member; the more casual pictures often end up being the best, IMO. Those pictures are cool ’cause it makes the author more a real person than just a figure.
    Oh well, I’m pretty sure that none of what I’ve said makes sense, or at least much, but then it’s Sunday, gray and snowing and I feel like I should be hibernating!
    BTW, I like the pictures of you all along the side of the blog!
    Kathy

    Reply
  21. I look better in photographs than I do in person, generally. I do look at author photographs, and yours, Lady Layton, makes you look positively artistic. I’m very curious about the people, women especially, behind the writing. I’m not looking for classically good looking women, per se, but that sort of “writer” look. Jo Beverly looks official, and I think MJP’s smile matches her stories.
    Pat Rice’s hair is different, but I recognized those cheekbones at the spotlight on…
    At National in Atlanta, an editor, who I was riding down the elevator with (I will not reveal her name), asked me who I was, if I wrote under a pen nam. When I explained that I was “no one,” she laughed and said: “You look like a romance author.”
    Huh? Too bad that’s not worth a thing.
    I do not think I’ve ever met an author I didn’t ultimately recognize. I confess, I might be tempted to use a younger photograph of myself. Not that I’m old, but I like the look in my eyes better in photos prior to 1996. Gosh, is it normal to think that I can see the loss of my grandparents (who raised me) in my eyes?

    Reply
  22. I look better in photographs than I do in person, generally. I do look at author photographs, and yours, Lady Layton, makes you look positively artistic. I’m very curious about the people, women especially, behind the writing. I’m not looking for classically good looking women, per se, but that sort of “writer” look. Jo Beverly looks official, and I think MJP’s smile matches her stories.
    Pat Rice’s hair is different, but I recognized those cheekbones at the spotlight on…
    At National in Atlanta, an editor, who I was riding down the elevator with (I will not reveal her name), asked me who I was, if I wrote under a pen nam. When I explained that I was “no one,” she laughed and said: “You look like a romance author.”
    Huh? Too bad that’s not worth a thing.
    I do not think I’ve ever met an author I didn’t ultimately recognize. I confess, I might be tempted to use a younger photograph of myself. Not that I’m old, but I like the look in my eyes better in photos prior to 1996. Gosh, is it normal to think that I can see the loss of my grandparents (who raised me) in my eyes?

    Reply
  23. I look better in photographs than I do in person, generally. I do look at author photographs, and yours, Lady Layton, makes you look positively artistic. I’m very curious about the people, women especially, behind the writing. I’m not looking for classically good looking women, per se, but that sort of “writer” look. Jo Beverly looks official, and I think MJP’s smile matches her stories.
    Pat Rice’s hair is different, but I recognized those cheekbones at the spotlight on…
    At National in Atlanta, an editor, who I was riding down the elevator with (I will not reveal her name), asked me who I was, if I wrote under a pen nam. When I explained that I was “no one,” she laughed and said: “You look like a romance author.”
    Huh? Too bad that’s not worth a thing.
    I do not think I’ve ever met an author I didn’t ultimately recognize. I confess, I might be tempted to use a younger photograph of myself. Not that I’m old, but I like the look in my eyes better in photos prior to 1996. Gosh, is it normal to think that I can see the loss of my grandparents (who raised me) in my eyes?

    Reply
  24. I look better in photographs than I do in person, generally. I do look at author photographs, and yours, Lady Layton, makes you look positively artistic. I’m very curious about the people, women especially, behind the writing. I’m not looking for classically good looking women, per se, but that sort of “writer” look. Jo Beverly looks official, and I think MJP’s smile matches her stories.
    Pat Rice’s hair is different, but I recognized those cheekbones at the spotlight on…
    At National in Atlanta, an editor, who I was riding down the elevator with (I will not reveal her name), asked me who I was, if I wrote under a pen nam. When I explained that I was “no one,” she laughed and said: “You look like a romance author.”
    Huh? Too bad that’s not worth a thing.
    I do not think I’ve ever met an author I didn’t ultimately recognize. I confess, I might be tempted to use a younger photograph of myself. Not that I’m old, but I like the look in my eyes better in photos prior to 1996. Gosh, is it normal to think that I can see the loss of my grandparents (who raised me) in my eyes?

    Reply
  25. Although it is mildly interesting to know roughly what an author looks like, I really don’t know why publishers make such a fuss about it. I can see that if a person writes self-help books that promise to make one slim and beautiful, readers might want to check that the writer, having followed her own advice, is indeed gorgeous, but for all the rest of us, what difference does it make to the reader, what we look like?
    As a non-fiction author in quite a specialised field, even I have had publishers (always American rather than British ones), demand a photo for the dustjacket, but I have managed to fend them all off so far.
    😉

    Reply
  26. Although it is mildly interesting to know roughly what an author looks like, I really don’t know why publishers make such a fuss about it. I can see that if a person writes self-help books that promise to make one slim and beautiful, readers might want to check that the writer, having followed her own advice, is indeed gorgeous, but for all the rest of us, what difference does it make to the reader, what we look like?
    As a non-fiction author in quite a specialised field, even I have had publishers (always American rather than British ones), demand a photo for the dustjacket, but I have managed to fend them all off so far.
    😉

    Reply
  27. Although it is mildly interesting to know roughly what an author looks like, I really don’t know why publishers make such a fuss about it. I can see that if a person writes self-help books that promise to make one slim and beautiful, readers might want to check that the writer, having followed her own advice, is indeed gorgeous, but for all the rest of us, what difference does it make to the reader, what we look like?
    As a non-fiction author in quite a specialised field, even I have had publishers (always American rather than British ones), demand a photo for the dustjacket, but I have managed to fend them all off so far.
    😉

    Reply
  28. Although it is mildly interesting to know roughly what an author looks like, I really don’t know why publishers make such a fuss about it. I can see that if a person writes self-help books that promise to make one slim and beautiful, readers might want to check that the writer, having followed her own advice, is indeed gorgeous, but for all the rest of us, what difference does it make to the reader, what we look like?
    As a non-fiction author in quite a specialised field, even I have had publishers (always American rather than British ones), demand a photo for the dustjacket, but I have managed to fend them all off so far.
    😉

    Reply
  29. Photos stopped being fun for me at about age 30, when the family double chin descended (sigh). I did have a fun experience recently, however, with the “Photo Booth” program on the new MacBook laptops–the built in digital camera takes your photo in a variety of “styles” (like “comic book,” “colored pencil,” “pop art,” “glow,” etc.) (I looked divine in “glow” and “colored pencil.”)
    As far as author photos, I like the “glamour” photos and the “casual” photos. Pretty much any photo, as long as the author looks relatively happy to have written a book (smug is ok too) and it looks like Someone Made An Effort for this Special Occasion. (Kind of like–we’re meeting for the first time, so let’s not do it properly, not in bathrobes and curlers.)

    Reply
  30. Photos stopped being fun for me at about age 30, when the family double chin descended (sigh). I did have a fun experience recently, however, with the “Photo Booth” program on the new MacBook laptops–the built in digital camera takes your photo in a variety of “styles” (like “comic book,” “colored pencil,” “pop art,” “glow,” etc.) (I looked divine in “glow” and “colored pencil.”)
    As far as author photos, I like the “glamour” photos and the “casual” photos. Pretty much any photo, as long as the author looks relatively happy to have written a book (smug is ok too) and it looks like Someone Made An Effort for this Special Occasion. (Kind of like–we’re meeting for the first time, so let’s not do it properly, not in bathrobes and curlers.)

    Reply
  31. Photos stopped being fun for me at about age 30, when the family double chin descended (sigh). I did have a fun experience recently, however, with the “Photo Booth” program on the new MacBook laptops–the built in digital camera takes your photo in a variety of “styles” (like “comic book,” “colored pencil,” “pop art,” “glow,” etc.) (I looked divine in “glow” and “colored pencil.”)
    As far as author photos, I like the “glamour” photos and the “casual” photos. Pretty much any photo, as long as the author looks relatively happy to have written a book (smug is ok too) and it looks like Someone Made An Effort for this Special Occasion. (Kind of like–we’re meeting for the first time, so let’s not do it properly, not in bathrobes and curlers.)

    Reply
  32. Photos stopped being fun for me at about age 30, when the family double chin descended (sigh). I did have a fun experience recently, however, with the “Photo Booth” program on the new MacBook laptops–the built in digital camera takes your photo in a variety of “styles” (like “comic book,” “colored pencil,” “pop art,” “glow,” etc.) (I looked divine in “glow” and “colored pencil.”)
    As far as author photos, I like the “glamour” photos and the “casual” photos. Pretty much any photo, as long as the author looks relatively happy to have written a book (smug is ok too) and it looks like Someone Made An Effort for this Special Occasion. (Kind of like–we’re meeting for the first time, so let’s not do it properly, not in bathrobes and curlers.)

    Reply
  33. I loathe having my picture taken. Loathe it. My kids have remarked photos of me are rare, so I make an effort to be in at least one or two each year because I know how precious photos of deceased family are to me. All of my family agrees I’m not photogenic in the least. My pics could stop a clock, but I myself am kinda cute.
    So you can see why I don’t really care about author photos. If they want to do it, fine. If they don’t, fine. I like your dog pics, because you look fairly comfortable and have good taste in barkers. I like Nora Robert’s pics (they look like her and all. Julia Quinn’s pics just make me hate her. Far too effortlessly lovely. Except, she is. Darn. If I never saw another author pic, I don’t think I’d notice.

    Reply
  34. I loathe having my picture taken. Loathe it. My kids have remarked photos of me are rare, so I make an effort to be in at least one or two each year because I know how precious photos of deceased family are to me. All of my family agrees I’m not photogenic in the least. My pics could stop a clock, but I myself am kinda cute.
    So you can see why I don’t really care about author photos. If they want to do it, fine. If they don’t, fine. I like your dog pics, because you look fairly comfortable and have good taste in barkers. I like Nora Robert’s pics (they look like her and all. Julia Quinn’s pics just make me hate her. Far too effortlessly lovely. Except, she is. Darn. If I never saw another author pic, I don’t think I’d notice.

    Reply
  35. I loathe having my picture taken. Loathe it. My kids have remarked photos of me are rare, so I make an effort to be in at least one or two each year because I know how precious photos of deceased family are to me. All of my family agrees I’m not photogenic in the least. My pics could stop a clock, but I myself am kinda cute.
    So you can see why I don’t really care about author photos. If they want to do it, fine. If they don’t, fine. I like your dog pics, because you look fairly comfortable and have good taste in barkers. I like Nora Robert’s pics (they look like her and all. Julia Quinn’s pics just make me hate her. Far too effortlessly lovely. Except, she is. Darn. If I never saw another author pic, I don’t think I’d notice.

    Reply
  36. I loathe having my picture taken. Loathe it. My kids have remarked photos of me are rare, so I make an effort to be in at least one or two each year because I know how precious photos of deceased family are to me. All of my family agrees I’m not photogenic in the least. My pics could stop a clock, but I myself am kinda cute.
    So you can see why I don’t really care about author photos. If they want to do it, fine. If they don’t, fine. I like your dog pics, because you look fairly comfortable and have good taste in barkers. I like Nora Robert’s pics (they look like her and all. Julia Quinn’s pics just make me hate her. Far too effortlessly lovely. Except, she is. Darn. If I never saw another author pic, I don’t think I’d notice.

    Reply
  37. From Sherrie:
    I like author pictures–I like to know what an author looks like, even if the pic is 25 years old. (and how many times can *you* use “like” in a sentence, boys and girls?) Since I know most author pics are professional portraits, I realize there is a certain amount of glamorization going on.
    The picture of me in the sidebar is almost 10 years old. If and when I ever have a need for a more current picture, I’ll spring for a new photo session. Until then, I’ll just have to put up with the gasps of horror when people meet me in person.
    Edith, I love the pictures of you and Miss Daisy. I remember an earlier one with your previous dog, Georgette. I liked that one, too!

    Reply
  38. From Sherrie:
    I like author pictures–I like to know what an author looks like, even if the pic is 25 years old. (and how many times can *you* use “like” in a sentence, boys and girls?) Since I know most author pics are professional portraits, I realize there is a certain amount of glamorization going on.
    The picture of me in the sidebar is almost 10 years old. If and when I ever have a need for a more current picture, I’ll spring for a new photo session. Until then, I’ll just have to put up with the gasps of horror when people meet me in person.
    Edith, I love the pictures of you and Miss Daisy. I remember an earlier one with your previous dog, Georgette. I liked that one, too!

    Reply
  39. From Sherrie:
    I like author pictures–I like to know what an author looks like, even if the pic is 25 years old. (and how many times can *you* use “like” in a sentence, boys and girls?) Since I know most author pics are professional portraits, I realize there is a certain amount of glamorization going on.
    The picture of me in the sidebar is almost 10 years old. If and when I ever have a need for a more current picture, I’ll spring for a new photo session. Until then, I’ll just have to put up with the gasps of horror when people meet me in person.
    Edith, I love the pictures of you and Miss Daisy. I remember an earlier one with your previous dog, Georgette. I liked that one, too!

    Reply
  40. From Sherrie:
    I like author pictures–I like to know what an author looks like, even if the pic is 25 years old. (and how many times can *you* use “like” in a sentence, boys and girls?) Since I know most author pics are professional portraits, I realize there is a certain amount of glamorization going on.
    The picture of me in the sidebar is almost 10 years old. If and when I ever have a need for a more current picture, I’ll spring for a new photo session. Until then, I’ll just have to put up with the gasps of horror when people meet me in person.
    Edith, I love the pictures of you and Miss Daisy. I remember an earlier one with your previous dog, Georgette. I liked that one, too!

    Reply
  41. My husband now takes most of my pictures. It can be a long and trying process but usually we get through it without killing each other, and I’ve been very pleased with the results: He makes me look good but not fake. I, too, have a big problem with self-consciousness and find that if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.

    Reply
  42. My husband now takes most of my pictures. It can be a long and trying process but usually we get through it without killing each other, and I’ve been very pleased with the results: He makes me look good but not fake. I, too, have a big problem with self-consciousness and find that if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.

    Reply
  43. My husband now takes most of my pictures. It can be a long and trying process but usually we get through it without killing each other, and I’ve been very pleased with the results: He makes me look good but not fake. I, too, have a big problem with self-consciousness and find that if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.

    Reply
  44. My husband now takes most of my pictures. It can be a long and trying process but usually we get through it without killing each other, and I’ve been very pleased with the results: He makes me look good but not fake. I, too, have a big problem with self-consciousness and find that if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.

    Reply
  45. Loretta,
    >>if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.>>
    I was going to suggest judicious amounts of white wine to do the same thing, but then, there is a possibility that eyes will cross. Getting a lively mutt to sit still and look interested is nice and exhausting too, though.
    And Maggie, Susan and Sherrie: Mz Daisy thanks you for the compliments from the bottom of her warm little heart.

    Reply
  46. Loretta,
    >>if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.>>
    I was going to suggest judicious amounts of white wine to do the same thing, but then, there is a possibility that eyes will cross. Getting a lively mutt to sit still and look interested is nice and exhausting too, though.
    And Maggie, Susan and Sherrie: Mz Daisy thanks you for the compliments from the bottom of her warm little heart.

    Reply
  47. Loretta,
    >>if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.>>
    I was going to suggest judicious amounts of white wine to do the same thing, but then, there is a possibility that eyes will cross. Getting a lively mutt to sit still and look interested is nice and exhausting too, though.
    And Maggie, Susan and Sherrie: Mz Daisy thanks you for the compliments from the bottom of her warm little heart.

    Reply
  48. Loretta,
    >>if you take hundreds of pictures, the best ones are at the end, when you’re too tired to be inhibited and tense.>>
    I was going to suggest judicious amounts of white wine to do the same thing, but then, there is a possibility that eyes will cross. Getting a lively mutt to sit still and look interested is nice and exhausting too, though.
    And Maggie, Susan and Sherrie: Mz Daisy thanks you for the compliments from the bottom of her warm little heart.

    Reply

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